The “Absurdity” of Koryu
1. Introduction
The title of this essay is not, of course, an accurate reflection of its context. In essence, this composition is a summary of a dispute between Russ Ebert, a ko ryu practitioner who participates in every known martial arts forum under the username Mekugi, and myself. It is a riposte to certain questions posed by Mr. Ebert and a request for a more universal standpoint when dealing with things.
The dispute presumably began when I posted a summary paper by Brad Binder on the Psychosocial Implications of the Martial Arts. Mr. Ebert took exception to the use of the wording “traditional” martial arts by Dr. Binder, in reference to martial arts that were not Japanese koryu, and were not stated as being such. In addition, Mr. Ebert proceeded to lecture me on what a conclusion is and what it is not, which I found enlightening, in view of the fact that I have been employed in the past as a research manager by a major university.
The conversation degraded after that, at my instigation (for reasons I will now explain to the public), which resulted in my insinuating that Mr. Ebert was a punk, and he, less subtly, that I was a pig.
I often light fires. I do it because I enjoy the distillation process, and have no fear of it. To brew whiskey, you need a flame; only then can you separate the brew from the mash, after passing the vapour through a condenser. Usually, the end product is quite enjoyable both for myself and for general consumption.
This essay is the condenser part of the process. Unfortunately, this time nothing interesting happened.
This situation did not begin, as Mr. Ebert believes, with his sudden presence on the Greek martial arts forum at allforums.gr. Rather, it began a few days earlier, in private correspondence with Nikolaos Kalantzis, a young man with limited experience in the martial arts who is now a protégé of Mr. Ebert.
At the closing end of that conversation, I asked Mr. Kalantzis who he had trained with. His sole experience was two years training with Mr. Philip Matziridis, a Bujinkan shidoshi trained by the Israeli teacher Moshe Kastiel, and eight months training with a former student of mine, Mr. Vasilis Petalas, who, beginning his training under me when I was a Bujinkan shidoshi, went on to become a student of Shoto Tanemura, and then on to train with various classical Japanese martial arts organizations, which he now represents in Greece. Mr. Kalantzis spoke dismissingly of his previous training and teachers, insinuating that they were not “legitimate” or “authorized”. In fact, Mr. Kalantzis, with his broad experience in the martial arts, had recently paid a visit to Japan, where he had petitioned the Kukishin ryu for membership, at the suggestion of his mentor Mr. Ebert. Returning to Greece, and so disillusioned by his options for training here, he is currently proceeding to study Shinto Muso ryu, from cassettes, as the only viable alternative open to him (let me know if I’ve missed anything, guys).
All this annoyed me, though I said nothing at the time to Mr. Kalantzis.
I do not know Mr. Matziridis; I have met him twice. From what I have heard of him, I would say that I dislike him on a personal basis. However, his teacher, Moshe Kastiel, is the student of a friend and teacher of mine, Mr. Doron Navon. Mr. Navon is an Israeli who went to Japan in 1967 to study various martial arts, and lived there for many years, acquiring among other things a yondan in Kodokan judo (in the 70s, in Japan), before finally settling on Dr. Hatsumi as his chosen teacher. In addition, Mr. Navon has been going back to Japan every year since his departure in the late seventies, and recently resided there once again, teaching Feldenkrais to the Japanese. I will also have to add that Vasilis Petalas remains a friend, despite no longer being my student, and to speak disparagingly of his efforts does not gain anyone favours in my book.
Now, I did and do not blame Mr. Kalantzis for the above. He is too young and too inexperienced to know what he is talking about. One should also bear in mind that both Mr. Matziridis and Mr. Petalas could break Nikolaos in half with their pinkie, while half drunk, munching popcorn, and watching a movie on television. In any case, there had to be an outside source influencing Mr. Kalantzis. When Mr. Ebert appeared on the forum, I understood what was going on.
Mr. Ebert, as I have mentioned, appears on every martial arts forum in the world as Mekugi. Several of his acquaintances are known to me and may even be former (or present) students and/or friends of mine. He has taken it on himself to become a voice for Japanese koryu in the world. There is nothing wrong with this. However, Mr. Ebert is also subtly working against the Bujinkan dojo (of which I am not a member) behind the scenes, trying to spread instead the teachings of the mainstream Kuki family, which he represents. Again, one could say that there is nothing wrong with this, and that it is to be expected.
And so, here begineth the lesson, dear reader. Sit back and enjoy.
2. The Koryu and Tradition
The koryu are today presented in Japan and abroad as being the essence of the martial spirit and knowledge of medieval Japan, preserved in pristine form, and moderated by the Nihon Kobudo Shinkokai and/or the Nihon Kobudo Kyokai. They supposedly represent Japanese tradition, and, as we will see, indeed they do, but not in the context promoted by themselves, and not since their regulation by the aforementioned regulatory bodies, after which they simply became museum pieces.
Mr. Ebert has accused me of “bobbing and weaving” (which I do not even do when I box) and being unfamiliar with Japanese koryu. That brought a smile to my face. For the record, 1) I am unaware of ever having claimed to be a teacher of Japanese koryu as defined by the Nihon Kobudo Shinkokai, and 2) the subject matter was “traditional martial arts”, not koryu. I will examine the word “traditional” subsequently, but, as an aside, let us stay with “koryu” for a moment. Mr. Ebert announced an upcoming seminar of his in Athens, stating it would be “the first appearance of the koryu in Greece. I disagreed, saying that he would be “surprised by what he could find in Greece”, if I remember correctly. The situation degraded from there. Mr. Ebert in all probability thought I was referring to my time spent with Masaaki Hatsumi and other Shihans of the Bujinkan, in view of his angst regarding the Kukishin ryu and its relationship to that organization. That is not the case. To my knowledge, there are at least two Greeks I know of who are currently members of koryu; one of them, like Mr. Ebert, went to Japan in the mid-90s, on scholarship, married a Japanese girl, and now resides there permanently, well on his way to a menkyo kaiden. But it was not these gentlemen I was thinking of when I made my comment. I was thinking of Yakumo Koizumi.
June 2000 marked the 150th anniversary of the birth of Patrick Lafcadio Hearn. Born in Lefkas, Greece on 27 June 1850 to a Greek mother (Rosa Kassimatis) and an Irish Surgeon Major in the British Army, his life led him on a fascinating path through Dublin, America, the Caribbean, and ultimately Japan, where he married the daughter of a Samurai and changed his name to Yakumo Koizumi, becoming one of Japan’s most beloved poets.
Lafcadio’s deep respect for and understanding of Japanese culture made him one of the great interpreters of things Japanese to the West. He was also responsible, through his work as a teacher and journalist in Japan, for opening an understanding of American and European ways among a whole generation in Japan at the turn of the century. His biography and mindset are very pertinent to Mr. Ebert, and I will return to him in closing.
There is an interesting story regarding a Greek member in a specific koryu during the turn of the century, a story that has to do with the Kassimatis family. The man in question was a relative of Lafcadio’s. I uncovered his story, as I have a reputation for doing, and was going to comment on it. In view of the circumstances, I now choose not to. It is a staggering account, and very difficult to trace without the specific documentation currently in my possession, unless a member of the Kassimatis family has even more information (which I am, by this post, fishing for). I am of a mind to turn it into a novel and have people pay for the privilege of reading it. I will thank Mr. Ebert for swinging my decision towards my more mercenary tendencies.
The close relationship between select Greek families and turn of the century Japan, beginning with Lafcadio Hearn and culminating in Jigoro Kano’s visit to Athens and famous speech at the Parnassus Society on June the 5th, 1934, has been forgotten. Most Greek judoka today are unaware that Professor Kano ever visited Athens.
In any case, this is what I had in mind. Is all this sufficiently surprising, Mr. Ebert? (Here ends the aside).
Let’s concentrate for a second on the word “tradition”. Here is the standard definition:
Tradition: c.1380, from O.Fr. tradicion (1292), from L. traditionem (nom. traditio) "delivery, surrender, a handing down," from traditus, pp. of tradere "deliver, hand over," from trans- "over" + dare "to give". The notion in the modern sense of the word is that of things "handed down" from generation to generation.
This word is often misunderstood today, as we are living in a global culture without tradition. “Tradition” does not mean “preserving the past”. Tradition is an exchange, a “trade”, a living thing that, as you have received, you pass on to your descendents. It does not mean that you cannot alter or affect the specific trait, since, while you have it, it is yours to do with as you please. This “flow” is not readily grasped today, all the more interesting in that we are discussing Japanese “ryu”.
Of the five martial arts teachers I have had with a “tradition” roughly 400 years old (of whom Masaaki Hatsumi is one), Chen Xiaowang, the 19th generation Standard Bearer of Chen family taichichuan, has helped me understand this tremendously. Mr. Chen is an itinerant friend; the use of the word “itinerant” revolves around the fact that I rarely see him. Altogether unusual for a Grandmaster of an Asian martial art, he has married a Greek girl, has had a son by her, and now considers Athens “home” (whatever “home” can be to a man with 50,000 students who continuously travels around the world). We happen to have the same “best man”; that is to say, the same couple that stood at my wedding (who are senior students of his) and baptized my child, has done the same for him. It is a bond of sorts in Greece, and allows me to be around him as an “insider” on social occasions.
Master Chen recently astounded us by admitting that specific training exercises, which we all thought were essential parts of his ancient tradition, were in fact a recent construct: these are the “standing pole” and “silk reeling” exercises. Master Chen was in turn surprised by our reaction to his statement, and affirmed that the core and “tradition” of his family teachings are simply the lao jia and paochui forms. The rest of the exercises and forms are comprised of the efforts and tactics of various masters of the Chen school throughout recent generations to instruct their students in the best way they thought possible. Hence, their tradition, which has been preserved and flowers internationally, is constantly added to, revised, and adapted, all the while maintaining its core.
It is “their” tradition, after all. Which is why the Chinese are not overly concerned with “ryu-ha”, but rather lineage and genealogy. Who was your teacher? Who was his teacher? The point is not “preservation”, but “flow”. You take, you add, you adjust, you pass on to your descendents. This is, in fact, the essence of tradition. It was a tremendous lesson for me; tradition is in fact, “trade-ition”.
The Japanese ko ryuha were no different in this regard in the past, until the institution of the Nihon Kobudo Shinkokai and its predecessors, the Seitokusha, Dai Nippon Butokukai, and whatever others I am unaware of. These institutions were established originally to protect ko ryu schools of all sorts from Western influences. Today’s ko ryu-ha kata, however, have nothing to do with the battlefield; any student of military tactics can see this. Their emphasis is on the sword and on duelling weapons, which is logical, since this is what they had to deal with in the 18th and early 19th centuries. If one takes up Professor Thomas Conlan’s standpoint, which I do, then the myth of the Samurai is just that. The folkloric vision of the Samurai — a loyal warrior, ready to die for his cause, riding into battle with his sword swinging, is nonsense. The ideal of the Samurai with which we are so familiar was born in peace. The Hagakure was written by a man who had never seen combat. Conlan argues that the prevailing image of the Samurai is not rooted in how warriors actually fought in 14th-century Japan. Instead, this image was created by the Samurai themselves, during the 17th century, when they felt a need to justify their own existence.
Conlan was recently interviewed for two documentary productions — one being produced for National Geographic, and another for the History Channel. He has become aware of the fact that many people hold dear the image generated by the samurai, and they don't want to let it go.
"This ideal is very much alive," Conlan stated. "A lot of people have something invested. They want to believe this."
By translating 1,302 military documents, Conlan was able to re-create entire battles and gain an understanding of the life a warrior in 14th-century Japan that scholars previously lacked. The documents are narratives of battle including mentions of wounds, fatalities, tactics, types of weapons used, and who had witnessed them. Guess what? Very few sword wounds; the knife saw more use in combat than the sword. The weapons of choice were the arrow and long spear (pike). Most people today who study koryu know this, including Mr. Ebert, but I am betting that most of the people who are now reading this, did not.
In light of this, the people at the Nihon Kobudo Shinkokai are not concerned with “trade-ition”. Their mission statement, clearly established during their founding, was the maintenance of an artificially generated image through the museum-like preservation of duelling and non-battlefield combat skills acquired during a time of peace.
What am I saying? That ko ryu are worthless? Hell, no. I have every respect for (to put it simply: I fear) some of the human tigers that hold sway in some of the ryu-ha today. Shihan Otake Ritsuke… brrr.. not someone I would want coming after me with a sword, unless I had an M40A1 and he was at least 300 meters away in an open field. But it all comes down to the individual; ko ryu are not holy icons, and should not be treated as such. To quote Ellis Amdur, there are “legitimate koryu that have become sterile societies of a few hobbyists who preserve a rote version of kata and couldn't fight their way out of a junior high school schoolyard fight”. I have witnessed this myself, in Japan; anyone with experience in the martial arts can also witness it today, without even visiting Japan, in light of the public demonstrations given and the many videos circulating with koryu technique.
It all comes down to the individual, then, as it always has, which brings us back to lineage and “trade-ition”.
Let me briefly rest on a subject dear to Mr. Ebert’s heart, the relationship between the Kukishin ryu and the Bujinkan dojo. I am no longer a member of the Bujinkan, and have not been since 1994. My last visit to Japan was in 1992; in fact, I am at odds with Dr. Hatsumi. I have been very outspoken in my condemnation of both Dr. Hatsumi’s ranking policies, as well as the fact that I did not, and do not, believe that there are any schools involved in the Bujinkan beyond the Kukishin and the Takagi Yoshin. I was smeared on the Internet for months for simply stating my opinion that Takamatsu made up the whole “ninjutsu thing” in order to display, systematize and teach methods he was taught in China (where he most certainly was NOT the bodyguard of the emperor).
And yet… and yet. Takamatsu was indeed a Shihanke of the Kukishin ryu. He maintained the school for the next soke. Even Mr. Ebert has publicly admitted that he was a “placeholder”, maintaining the school until the next incumbent was ready.
So what does that mean, in simple, twenty-first century western terms? It means that the Kukishin school taught him everything that it had, that the “trade-ition” was completely passed on to him, that the transfer of knowledge was absolute. It had to be – Takamatsu was The Man for a time, and they had to make sure he would teach the new Man. What that means, in essence, is that a lineage of at least 400 years (or more, depending on who you believe), was in his hands.
What happened next is a matter of Japanese cultural context, not function. It is really not important for us in the context of lineage whether Takamatsu was a shihanke or Soke of the school or whatever. The aforementioned would be critical if we were to state that we were a member of, soke of, and/or taught Kukishin ryu, which is not the case, at least not on my part. In the context of lineage, and actual knowledge, however, what matters most is this: was he fully trained and did he fully receive 400 years of history and martial evolution? The answer is yes – he had to be. No one can doubt this.
There is also no question that he passed this knowledge on to Masaaki Hatsumi, having added his own personal input into the “trade-ition”. There is much evidence that supports this position. The rest, that is to say “who controls the mainstream Kukishin ryu line” is important only if you are dogmatically obsessed with preservation from a Japanese nationalistic perspective, and consider ryu-ha something to be maintained as unique cultural and familial fifes, museum pieces, rather than living, adaptable objects. I myself am not.
“Trade-ition” is a wonderful thing. In the mountainous area where I am from, Zaghori in northern Greece, we have dances that are unique to us. People continue to dance them today in annual festivals, wearing not the clothes of yesteryear, but rather jeans and sneakers. They make up variations of the steps and dance all night long. This is an example of a living tradition indeed, one that is not owned by a specific family, but rather relates to a geographic area, and is certainly not a museum piece. This same feeling is also evident in the Chen taichichuan system in regard to martial arts, which is a family owned school. As such, “tradition” becomes a matter of lineage, not authority or preservation. Despite not being a member of the Bujinkan, then, I will affirm that it is completely stupid to state that Masaaki Hatsumi did not receive martial teachings in the wake of a 400 year old lineage. It is obvious that he did; the rest is a matter of licensing and franchising.
Circa 1910, martial arts were made a standard part of school curricula in Japan. Meiji era creations such as judo, kendo, kyudo, were entered into the public school system, based on the techniques and practices of the earlier ryuha. This was logical; the ryuha promoted loyalty to themselves and to their family line, while the government was interested in promoting loyalty to the State. And yet, martial arts practices were “traded” into these new institutions. The same thing occurred 12 years later, following Funakoshi’s historic demonstration in Tokyo and the adoption of a traditional Okinawan art by the Japanese. In the same way that Hatsumi received Kukishin teachings from Takamatsu, “traditional” teachings were “traded” into the new “gendai” era martial arts/combat sports.
To close this section, then, because despite it being a horrible, rainy, windy, snowy night in Athens, I am beginning to get bored writing (as I am sure the reader is), Dr. Binder in his original article is not referring to “traditional” martial arts as being ko ryu. He is not insinuating that taekwondo has a history of 400 years. He is not stating that judo has a history earlier than the 19th century. He himself is in fact “concluding” nothing at all, since the article clearly states that it is a literature review, a position paper that he has compiled, repeating the conclusions of other researchers. What Dr. Binder and his pronounced list of references are stating is this: the methodology used to traditionally teach martial arts (that is to say: kata, respect, an upright stance, meditation, focus, cultural context and awareness), has shown to have a positive effect on the practitioner’s psyche with respect to aggression, whereas the “modern” sport approach, cultivated in the last 30 years by eliminating the aforementioned and concentrating on training for combative sports and/or gladiatorial combat, has shown to have a negative effect. I am sure that Dr. Binder did not realize that the Japanese ko ryu had an exclusivity on the word “traditional” when he wrote the paper.
In conclusion then, while I am aware of the definitions instituted by Japanese organizations and propagated by the late, larger than life Donn Draeger, they are constructs, not fact, and one does not of necessity have to agree with them or be limited by them.
3. The “Survivor” Syndrome
Mr. Ebert has fallen into a trap he is unaware of; I call it the “Survivor Syndrome”, in reference to the reality show, and has to do with the 90s and modern day trends.
When the Berlin Wall crashed down, the world was forever changed (the martial arts world, too). Things became far more complex, and yet at the same time, much easier. Globalization meant that TV culture penetrated into even the most remote Micronesian islands. There is a Greek word, sarosis, which translates best as “levelling out”, something like a tsunami hitting a beach, to allude to a recent tragedy, that describes the New Millennium It was amazing to watch. I was fortunate enough to be able to traverse the jungles of Kallimantan in 1994, while they were still jungle. In a few years, following deliberately set fires, there are roads and farms everywhere. Mamon has no enemy to face him these days. People are aware of this, on a subliminal level; it causes stress and makes people seek an escape.
The annual report on Americans' health in December of 2004 found that just over 44 percent of all Americans take at least one prescription drug, and 16.5 percent take at least three. "Americans are taking medicines that reduce the threat of heart disease, keep diabetes in check, and help lift people out of debilitating depressions," Health and Human Services Secretary Tommy G. Thompson said in a statement. 30% of women have been diagnosed as suffering from depression; this is a staggering number. Men's figures were previously thought to be half that of women, but new estimates are higher. The frightening thing is the rate of increase of clinical depression among children is an astounding 23% per year. (January 2005)
As an antidote, then, people feel the need to react. But it is a desperate reaction fuelled by sarosis. People confuse reaction with commitment, or, as I often say, survival with “survivor”.
One escape is to seek cultural attachment; people seek trade-ition, a connection to the past, any past will do. Historical documentaries have reached an all time high popularity level. The martial arts are not exempt from this trend; neither are the ko ryu.
When I went to Japan in the summer of 1986, there were roughly 60,000 Westerners living there as permanent residents. I was fortunate enough to have mentors like Makis Artinos, a Greek who had gone there to study judo and shorinji kempo in the early 70s and had subsequently gone on to become a Greek consulate employee, marry a Japanese wife, have a bunch of kids, and acquire a Kodokan 4th dan, living in Japan for decades. Makis was part of the circle of foreigners who have become legend today; as a guest of Makis, I was lucky enough to have a well-liked translator who knew everyone and took me everywhere. (At the time, if you took a bus roughly one hour outside of Tokyo, you were still followed by packs of school kids interested in the monstrosity.) But most importantly, he helped me see Japan as it really was, not as I wanted it to be.
Makis Artinos with Yumio Nawa circa 1979
Today, there are roughly 650,000 Western residents in Japan, more than ten times the number in 1986 (including, surprisingly enough, 250,000 Brazilians). Foreigners are not an oddity anymore, nor are they followed by school kids. The culture has changed rapidly and drastically. Again, the ko ryu are not unaffected.
Which brings me back to Lafcadio Hearn. Lafcadio went to Japan because of love and hate. His father’s family were domineering. Brits of the age, they were contemptuous of Lafcadio’s mother Rosa, who his father divorced when he was six. His aunt, for many years, ingrained into him a hate of all things Greek, something he later overcame and insisted that people call him Lafcadio rather than Patrick. It didn’t help that he was a very small man (in adulthood he was only 5 foot 3 inches.) and had a very Greek appearance, which the children in Dublin mocked. Also at the age of thirteen Lafcadio lost an eye in a school playground accident, which made matters worse.
It was Lafcadio’s flight from Western materialism, and from the aggression of racism, that brought him to Japan in 1890. His search for beauty and tranquillity, for pleasing customs and lasting values, kept him there for the rest of his life. A confirmed Japanophile, he died of a heart attach in 1905.
I suffered the same feelings myself as the son of Greek immigrants in the States; to compensate, I became enamoured of the East, and wound up (first of all) in Japan. I am sure Mr. Ebert found himself there for the same reasons.
But….
The world is changing. Japan is changing, losing herself in the flux of globalization. I watched it happen every year that I went there, from 86 through 92, and it has gotten much much worse. The ko ryu have changed as well. What were once closed fraternities of nationals, today readily admit foreigners. Some now have websites and are openly shopping for customers (so are school girls in Japan by the way). Ko ryu splinter groups abound; perhaps they follow the same logic that Takamatsu did when, in a very non-Japanese way, he rebelled against the hereditary authority of the Kuki clan (perhaps influenced by the Chinese?). Sarosis is everywhere. The problem with the koryu and their set-up today is that they have broken with trade-ition; in becoming museum pieces, in breaking the flow, they are tasked with making the jump to the New Millennium in a single generation. That makes it most difficult.
I do not think they will make it intact. Mr. Ebert’s posts tell me that they have simply become dogmatic organizations eager to preserve their interests. Soon they will become federations; the kami of each ryu will then die.
4. Personal
Mr. Ebert, I have called you a punk. You have called me a pig. No one has ever managed that before; it was a new experience for me. Perhaps I deserved it; perhaps not. In any case, I leave it up to you. I would be delighted to meet you privately before your seminar in Athens (before, not during or after) to settle the affair. Or not. I do not consider you one of the bad guys; there are so many frauds out there to occupy one’s time, simple ambition is the least of things to worry about. Perhaps I am not innocent of the same crime. And now that everything is out in the open, at least on my side, I have done what I set out to do. So I leave the decision up to you.
By the way, people have lives. In my case, I have four of them that I try to juggle around as best I can. I wish I could be on the Internet all day, and would like nothing better than to simply train in the martial arts and surf the Net, but fate has had other plans. Please allow me sufficient leeway for internet responses. There are periods when I have a lot of time on my hands, that’s true, and others when I have no time at all and work around the clock. Right now, I am faced with one such a period.
(This written on a sleety cold Sunday evening, and posted on Tuesday afternoon, for lack of time to post.)
(He bows in the Western fashion, curtly, but with a smile, and exits)